


Gift of Life

by Samuraiter



Category: Fire Emblem Heroes
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Certain Death Averted – Character Survives Injuries, F/F, Hurt/Comfort – Bonding Over Shared Trauma, Hurt/Comfort – Not Knowing How To Be Loved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-21
Updated: 2019-10-21
Packaged: 2020-12-27 06:28:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21114221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Samuraiter/pseuds/Samuraiter
Summary: Through a change of fate, Laegjarn is granted a second chance at life and, by extension, the opportunity to explore the bond between her and Fjorm.





	Gift of Life

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Serie11](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Serie11/gifts).

> Uses lore from both Book II and Book III, so I recommend being up to date on the in-game content before you read.

Laegjarn opened her eyes to find herself still in the darkness of a dream.

"This place is –" A thick fog swallowed up her voice, its depths hinting at dead trees lurking in the sea of white. "Where – ?" She tried to turn, but discovered that she had been immersed up to her waist in a black, tar-like mud that sucked at her body, gradually pulling her down as tendrils of cold snaked up through her limbs. "I-I can't move. I –" She strained against the marsh.

"Struggling is pointless," a female voice said from inside the fog. "This isn't fate. This is a choice that you, yourself, have made." A silhouette appeared in the white. "You're going to die. You _chose_ to die."

"Even if it's a choice," Laegjarn replied, sinking into the marsh, "that doesn't mean it's something I can calmly accept." She sighed, looking down into the mud as it crept up her body. "I'm dying because I _have_ to, not because I _want_ to. If I die, it means my sister's life will be spared."

"I see." The silhouette became a figure that emerged from the fog, a young woman, hair and eyes of silver, her long dress making her seem like a ghost as she walked atop the marsh, her feet barely touching its surface. "And is your death your only regret? Is that the only reason you continue to struggle?"

Laegjarn had to lift her chin to keep her head above the mud. "It's –" She looked up at the sky, the cold numbing her entire body. "No. There's one more regret, one more person I need to see again, and now, I won't get the chance."

The young woman smiled despite the sadness in her eyes, reaching down to take Laegjarn by the hand. "Listen closely, then. This doesn't have to be the end. If you seek a second chance, it is in my power to give it to you." Despite her ghostly appearance, her hand was warm and alive to the touch. "But, if you die again, this is the eternity that awaits you: emptiness and loneliness."

"Tell me what I have to do." Laegjarn did not hesitate. "Quickly."

"Only if that is what you truly desire," the young woman replied.

"Yes." And, as if lifting nothing at all, the silver-haired maiden lifted her up from the mire with one hand, none of the black mud sticking to her.

"Accept this gift." The young woman produced a long knife from one of her flowing sleeves and pricked her palm on its point. "In my blood flows thousands of lives. This one, I give to you, Laegjarn of Múspell. Drink of my life, and you will live again." She held up her hand, and Laegjarn reached for it, touching her lips to the single drop of bright blood on her palm.

Laegjarn felt heat blossom through her insides as she asked, "Who ... are you?"

The sad-eyed maiden replied, "It's best if you don't know. Live your life, and we'll meet again. When that happens, I will tell you my name." Both she and the fog-covered marsh started to fade. "Now, there's someone else you must see."

Laegjarn opened her mouth to tell her to wait, but it was then that she awoke.

* * * *

Sharena raised her right hand to inform the troops behind her that a stop was necessary, and Fjorm, standing next to her, stepped forward to see what had come to the attention of the Princess of Askr. The halls of Múspell loomed above them, still dark menacing in spite of the death of King Surtr.

Fjorm did not expect to see Laegjarn lying there, seemingly whole again.

_Was the rite reversed, somehow?_ the Princess of Nifl thought, kneeling next to her opposite and lifting her head to rest it in her lap. _She's ... not dead?_ Her chest rose and fell, her breath normal. _But ... how?_

"What do you make of this, Fjorm?" Sharena asked, kneeling next to her. "Is she – ?" Fjorm shook her head. "It's like she's asleep, huh? Not a scratch."

"It doesn't make any sense," Fjorm murmured. "The rite burned her alive."

"Well, we'll take her with us, then." Sharena smiled. "I mean, we can't just leave her here, now, can we? Even if it's technically her home." She nodded to Fjorm, resting a hand on her shoulder. "Besides, I know there's more you wanted to say to her. If you're being given the chance, why not take it?"

"You're right." Fjorm nodded. "Will you help me carry her, Sharena?"

The smile became a broad grin. "You don't even have to ask me, you know."

* * * *

Laegjarn opened her eyes – that she had eyes again came to her as a surprise – to see Fjorm seated next to her, her ungloved hands folded in her lap.

"How ... long?" she asked, staring up at the ceiling of the dim bedroom.

"We've been back in Askr for about a day," Fjorm replied, "and, before you ask, yes, we've told Laevatein. She accepts that you might have to stay here until we figure out exactly what happened to you." She paused. "And that's something that I'd really like to know. Do you ... remember anything?"

Laegjarn lay silent for a long moment, thinking back to the dream that she had, but unable to grasp more than fragments of it, and she could only admit, "I ... don't remember. I only know that I've been given a second chance." Another long moment of silence. "And what about _your_ rite, Fjorm?"

"I don't know any more than you do." Fjorm averted her blue eyes. "I feel weaker, but it doesn't feel like I'm going to die any time soon." She sighed. "I'm not going to be so vain as to assume that I've cheated death entirely. I know I haven't. I just don't know how quickly I'm going to decline from here."

Laegjarn took a deep breath and closed her eyes. "But what if you _did_ cheat death? What if there are forces at work that neither of us can grasp?"

"After everything I've seen, I can't rule it out," Fjorm said. She rose to her feet. "You're probably going to need more rest. Please understand that, as long as you're here, you're a guest, not a hostage. The war is over."

And, as she turned to leave, Laegjarn said, half-sitting up in her bed, her head swimming, "Wait, Fjorm. Is that everything that you wanted to say?"

Fjorm paused at the door, closing her eyes, but not turning back. "No. It isn't. And I'm sure there are things you wish to say to me, too, but it's not the time for that." She started to close the door. "We'll talk again."

"All right." Back into the dimness. "I guarantee that we will."

* * * *

The green forests surrounding Castle Askr had already started to recover from the multitude of fires that the army of Múspell had inflicted upon them.

Laegjarn could not believe that she had already been a guest of the Order of Heroes, as Fjorm had put it in their first conversation, for a month.

Fjorm, sitting next to her on a stone bench to one side of the trail, had not worsened. If anything, she seemed as strong as she had always been.

"If you look up, slightly to the left, you can see the Aether Fortress when it catches the sunlight," Fjorm said. "Hard to believe we've been able to achieve something like that so soo after the war, isn't it?" She sighed, letting the silence between them stretch for a little while. "I still haven't decided what it is that I want to say to you, Laegjarn. I know that it's childish of me to keep you here like this when there's been no resolution between us."

"I'm free to leave whenever I want," Laegjarn replied, looking up at the gleam of light that the Aether Fortress had become up in the high sky. "If I'm still here, it's by my choice. I know you'll talk to me when you're ready."

"You're being too patient." Fjorm rested her lance across her knees. "You don't have to be. You can insist that I stop dragging my feet and —"

"If I insist, then you're not telling me what you want to say because you want to say it." Laegjarn half-smiled to herself. "The fact that I was able to return to life is my statement. It's up to you to make yours when you wish."

"So be it, then. It's –" She paused to consider her words. "I don't know why, exactly. It could be your strength. Your compassion. Both. Neither. The fact that we're opposites, that our magics cancel each other. I've ... never had a feeling like this. I don't understand, and that's something that frightens me."

"And you think that _I_ understand it?" Laegjarn shook her head. "Do you think there was any love to be had in the House of Surtr? There wasn't. I either had to embrace strength, or embrace death. Those were my two choices." She stared hard at the ground. "I envy your family. It's built on love. You'd do anything for each other. If one of you falls down, you pick each other up. It ... doesn't seem fair that the royal families of Nifl and Múspell should be so different. Or does it? In the end, your family is the one that survived."

"You know that isn't true." Fjorm set aside her lance and took Laegjarn by the hand. "Both of our families have known loss, and the war being over doesn't mean that one of us has won and one of us has lost." She took a deep breath. "Besides, we're here as individuals, not as members of our royal families. If we're going to talk about anything, let's talk about the two of us."

"Does this mean that you're ready to tell me?" Laegjarn turned to face her.

"I –" Only a short distance between them, and Fjorm closed it with a kiss.

* * * *

The armies of the dead had come to Askr.

The Order of Heroes, in turn, had gone to the realm of the dead.

And that brought Laegjarn back to the place from her dream.

"You're turning pale," Fjorm said, her voice soft. "What is it?"

"I've been here," Laegjarn replied. "This is where —"

"Where you and I met," a new voice said. "Do you remember now?"

"Eir." Laegjarn turned to face her. "It didn't occur to me ... until now. It was just something half-remembered. But it was always you, wasn't it?"

Eir nodded. "Yes. To give this Order a fighting chance, I knew that I needed both of you. On their own, there is no guarantee of success, but, with your powers, your bond, all of this can be overcome." She closed her eyes. "I wasn't entirely truthful with you, though. Of all the lives that I had to give, I only had one left, and I gave a little of it to you – to both of you." She opened her eyes again, a faint smile on her face. "Enough to avert death. I could not give it to one of you without also giving it to the other. So long as the two of you fight side by side, death will have no power over you."

"And we thank you," Laegjarn said, "but ... how did you know?"

The silver-haired maiden turned her back to both Fjorm and Laegjarn as she said, simply, "Some things are obvious to everyone but those most involved." And she turned to leave. "When all is said and done, I pray for your joy."

Fjorm took Laegjarn by the hand again, saying, "Fate?"

"No," Laegjarn replied, squeezing her hand in turn. "Choice."

* * * *

After the return from the realm of the dead, Sharena stood for Fjorm at the wedding, and Eir stood for Laegjarn, though Alfonse and Laevatein, among many others, made certain to be present, too. Anna and Queen Henriette both presided.

Laegjarn thought, as she lifted the veil and looked into the blue eyes of the Princess of Nifl, _This is how it should have been from the beginning_. She leaned forward to kiss lips that she had kissed many times before. _In a world where all the fighting has ended, this is how it should be_. Fjorm had a smile in her eyes as Laegjarn sealed their union.

In the sky above Castle Askr, the Aether Fortress let loose a volley of fireworks. In the courtyards, on the causeways, cheers arose from the throats of hundreds, perhaps thousands, of heroes from worlds beyond counting.

_I will never sink into the marsh again_.

**END**.


End file.
